Sandstorm
by chromium-oxide
Summary: "You're not even a Pokémon trainer.  You can't hurt me," Her face was twisted into a look somewhere between haughty disgust and amusement.  "I bet you don't even know if there's anything in that ball!"
1. Prologue

**Okay, here goes...I'm totally new to the whole fanfiction thing, but after finishing Pokemon White I just felt like writing. I don't know whether I'll actually finish this, but it has been fun so far, so I might at least try. Feedback on what's good and what could be improved upon plot/character-wise would be appreciated, especially in these first few chapters, as if anything needs serious changing it will be easier to do so now than once the story is well underway. Just a short prologue including a bit of background info on the setting this time. The next chapter should be considerably longer. Anyway, hope you enjoy. It was fun to write. :)**

**Oh yeah, and I of course don't own Pokemon or any of the things affiliated with it.**

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><p><strong>Prologue: The Champion's Legacy<strong>

It was four years ago today that Touko set off on her Pokémon journey. Back then Nuvema was virtually unknown; nothing more than a quiet little hamlet in which a certain professor's lab was located.

That was, of course, before Touko became the league Champion, permanently placing herself-and by proxy her hometown-into the spotlight. For a while little Nuvema Town became the number one tourist spot for aspiring trainers, playing host to groups traveling from all over Unova to see Professor Juniper and the place that had spawned the greatest Champion yet.

Invariably they were disappointed.

Nuvema town continued to be the tiny community it had always been, even refusing the Pokémon center offered them by the regional building council. The only difference was the steadily lessening flow of tourists and the growing absences of Professor Juniper and her main aide, Bianca. Due to the constant challenges and duties the Champion was forced by her position to accept, there was rarely even a visit from the region's most famous trainer. On top of all that, rumor had it that the Champion was chasing the trail of some incredible trainer who had been terrorizing the region's strongest trainers as of late. Though there was no official word to be had, it seemed unlikely that a trip to her hometown would yield any glimpse of Touko and her team.

Nevertheless, the spotlight continued to shine hot and unending over poor Nuvema. All eyes were on the sleepy little community, watching and waiting for the next young trainer to venture forth. Could Nuvema spawn another great trainer? Or had its luck run out?

Only time would tell.


	2. Chapter 1

**Okay, here goes...I'm totally new to the whole fanfiction thing, but after finishing Pokemon White I just felt like writing. I don't know whether I'll actually finish this, but it has been fun so far, so I might at least try. Feedback on what's good and what could be improved upon plot/character-wise would be appreciated, especially in these first few chapters, as if anything needs serious changing it will be easier to do so now than once the story is well underway. Anyway, hope you enjoy. It was fun to write. :)**

**Oh yeah, and I of course don't own Pokemon or any of the things affiliated with it.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Inauspicious Beginnings<strong>

It was early, too early even for Pidoves to greet the morning with their quiet song. The sun lay just below the horizon, turning the gray twilight to a jaundiced yellow and casting a pall over what should be the brightest day for a certain young resident of Nuvema town. Her soft eyes stared unblinking from a feather-soft pillow, watching the sky creep inexorably toward morning. In less than a minute she would be twelve years old.

This time last year she had started a count down on her calendar, _360 days left_. Even a week ago she had been excited, waiting impatiently for each day to pass as the week trod steadily onward. It hadn't been until two days ago that she realized something was wrong. Professor Juniper should have been back by now, pokéballs in hand. She knew Cellie's birthday was coming up; why hadn't she come back yet?

This was supposed to be the first day of her journey to see the world, and though she had waited all night for the lights up at the lab to flicker into life they never had. The professor hadn't come back. There were no Pokémon eagerly awaiting her arrival at the lab's front door, their red capsules full of promise. There was no farewell party gathering on the road leading out of town, small gifts of potions or pokeballs in hand. There wasn't even a blue sky to greet her on what should be the greatest day of her life. All she would receive on this gray morning would be her mother's apologetic smile and a pat on the back from her father, his "Maybe she'll be back soon, kiddo," a halfhearted platitude sent forth to fall like so much lead between them. At least it would give her poor broken heart some company on the floor.

These were the musings that acted as her mind's sustenance throughout the slow sunrise. By the time her Lillipup alarm clock began barking with still no sign of life from the professor's lab she was in a dark mood and ready to sleep away the rest of this most inauspicious of days. As such, it was quite an unpleasant surprise at first to find herself roused from her drowsing by a sharp rapping on the window. Heart beating unpleasantly from the surprise, she leapt up and moved to the door, thinking at first that it was her father trying to get her attention from the hallway. The passageway outside her door proved empty, however, and she turned into her room again, confused. It was then that she saw the Pokémon balanced on the windowsill. It held a letter in its blunt little beak, one beady eye turned to regard her through the glass.

"Pidove!" Cellie exclaimed, rushing to the window and throwing it open. The little bird fluttered inside and dropped the letter in her hands, retiring to the top of a bedpost to await her response.

_Cellie,_

_I am afraid I have been detained in Nimbasa, and will not be able to make it back to the lab for at least a week more. I'd be very grateful if you could go fill up the automatic feeders I have set up at the facility for the Pokémon that are resting there. I'd have Bianca do it, but I need her here with me for the moment. I know I can trust you to do a great job!_

_Thanks,_

_-Professor Juniper_

"Feed the Pokémon?" That was it, then. Not even a 'by the way, happy birthday' to show she'd even remembered what day it was. Chances were she hadn't. She scanned the room for a pen with which to scrawl a quick reply and then sent Pidove on his way. No reason to keep the poor bird waiting with the weather as dark as it was. Chances were it would start pouring soon, so he should get moving now if he wanted to beat the rain.

As for Cellie, she started getting dressed for wet weather, her utter dejection made plain with every movement. She may not like the present circumstances, but she couldn't let the professor's Pokémon starve just because she felt like curling up in a little ball and crying. The professor had shown her where she kept the spare key just in case a situation like this ever arose, and it wasn't like this was the first time she'd had to pokésit for the busy researcher. It was just…Cellie sighed. Why today of all days? The last thing she wanted was to be reminded of Pokémon when it looked like her own adventure was about to get deferred. Sure, it was easy for the professor; she could leave whenever she wanted to. This was Cellie's big chance to finally see the world outside of Nuvema town, and here she was waiting for nothing more interesting than a thunderstorm to appear. It certainly didn't look like Juniper or one of her aides would be making a surprise return today.

Cellie tiptoed on socked feet down the dark hallway, trying to avoid waking her parents. She'd set her alarm clock extra early just in case the professor got back late the night before, and even though it meant she'd missed some sleep at least it meant she wouldn't have to look at the pity in her parents' eyes as they tried to comfort her. The last thing she needed right now was, 'oh sweetie, it'll be all right,' and 'I'm sure the professor has a really good reason for not making it back yet'. Not like it made any difference what her reasoning was. She still wasn't there.

The door closed behind her with the slightest of clicks, Cellie breathed a sigh of relief. That was one obstacle taken care of. Now she just had to feed the Pokémon and get back inside before anyone missed her. It was a bit of a walk to the lab, but not too far; after all, it wasn't much of a distance to anything in Nuvema. The spare key was right where it belonged, as were the giant bags of prepackaged Pokémon food. She wrestled one of the down off its shelf, dragging it through the dark lab toward the back door. Professor Juniper had a fenced off yard set up for the Pokémon to make use of while she was away, and it was under a shelter near the door that the food dispensers were located. The Pokémon themselves were snug in their capsules at the moment, no doubt resting easily through the dim grey morning. Later on, Cellie knew, she would be able to hear them as they exited their balls to spend the day playing among the professor's garden. She hoped they at least would enjoy themselves today.

It was while wrestling with the stubborn food bag and entertaining these somber musings that Cellie came to the realization that she was not alone in the lab. It wasn't so much a sound or some movement that tipped her off as it was that indefinable feeling that she was not alone. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as her hands froze midway through their motions, unconsciously falling from the bag and to her side as she straightened. There was still no noise, nothing to show that she was not perfectly and completely alone besides the Pokémon she had come to feed, but even so she felt more strongly than ever now that someone hid somewhere in the shadows of the lab, their eyes boring holes into her back. Even as her breath caught in her throat and her heart raced, her mind clamored feverishly for some notion of what she should do. Hand reaching slowly for the rack of capsules to her right, she'd just begun working up the courage to turn around and face whatever intruder might be awaiting her when—

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The voice seemed to come from right behind her, quiet yet full of a sort of amused malice. Her hand froze inches from the nearest pokéball, and her eyes snapped forward once more.

"That's better," The unseen voice continued. She could hear footsteps pacing around the room, "Much better. Little girls shouldn't be out and about at this hour. They'd do best to run along and forget they ever stumbled across the business of their elders."

Cellie could hear what sounded like papers being shuffled, and realized whoever was talking must be searching for something. Once they sounded fairly occupied with what they were doing, she risked inching her hand closer to the Pokémon's capsule, praying it was not empty. It took several tense moments for her fingers to make contact, the cool metal of the ball like ice under her shaking touch. Pokéball in hand, she felt some of her courage return. She may not be a trainer, but she certainly wouldn't stand by and let someone steal the professor's things. The other fleeting thought that passed through her mind—that perhaps it would be just payback for forgetting her birthday—she let pass by with neither comment nor expansion. No one deserved to be stolen from, no matter what they might have done.

That thought lending her strength, she finally found the willpower to turn and confront the intruder. Pokéball held before her like some protecting talisman, she called, "I'll give you one chance. Get out now, or—"

"—Or what, you'll fight me?" The voice jeered back. A nearby window let in just enough light for Cellie to see the figure by the desk straighten, hands on hips.

"You're not even a Pokémon trainer. You can't hurt me," Her face was twisted into a look somewhere between haughty disgust and amusement. "I bet you don't even know if there's anything in that ball!"

With that the intruder plucked a capsule from her waist and threw it, releasing a Purrloin onto the lab floor. The feline hissed, its sickle tail lashing the air behind it. Cellie took a step back, heart racing. She was either about to get mauled or have her first Pokémon battle. She'd never imagined it happening like this. _Oh well, _she thought, _only one way to find out._

The pokéball arced through the air, hitting the ground and splitting open. A bright light flashed forth, highlighting the two trainers and their surroundings. Cellie caught just a glimpse of her aggressor's trappings—some sort of white tabard and grey headpiece—before it was gone and her attention was once again drawn to the makeshift battlefield before her. A brown creature crouched before her, watching the Purrloin with a challenging stare. It turned its head to glance at her before regarding its opponent again.

"A Sandile, huh?" The intruder broke the silence again, an infuriating grin spreading across her features. "You lucked out, kid. Too bad it takes more than luck to win a Pokémon battle,"

"Purrloin, scratch! Now!"

Claws unsheathed, the feline leapt forward. Sandile tried to avoid the attack, but its opponent proved far more nimble. Three red lines appeared along the creature's back, and it hissed as the quicker Purrloin danced away.

Cellie stood, paralyzed with indecision. What should she do? She had no clue what moves the Pokémon before her knew; she'd never even known it existed until this moment. "Ah…" What was it the trainers on the television always used? She'd even started watching the show featuring different moves Pokémon could learn just to prepare herself for her journey. She needed something simple, something even a low-level Pokémon would know—

"Sandile!" The little brown reptile had turned toward her again, obviously waiting to be told what to do. She winced as she saw the cuts on its back, feeling terrible. This Pokémon shouldn't have to suffer because of her inexperience. "Dile!" it called again.

"Sandile, use—ah—use bite!" It had that huge mouth; surely it knew how to bite things, at least.

The reptile almost seemed to grin as its mouth gaped open, showing off white teeth. When the Purrloin next leapt forward it lunged quickly, catching one of the feline's front paws in its maw. The Pokémon struggled free, but not without some damage. That paw held off the ground, it lost some of the agility that had let it so easily outpace its foe. Its trainer too seemed to have had some of her confidence sapped by the move, as her face echoed the grimace on her Pokémon's.

"Scratch it, scratch it now Purrloin!" The feline charged forward on its owner's command, again catching Sandile across the back. Landing, it leapt back across, catching the reptile a glancing blow to the face. Sandile reeled back, shaking its head. When it next looked up, its eyes glowed red and it hurled itself at the other Pokémon unbidden. The Purrloin skidded backwards under the force of the attack, getting to its feet only to be hit again by the Sandile's attack.

"Is that…rage?" Cellie watched Sandile fight without her, exchanging blows back and forth with the Purrloin. Low level as both the Pokémon were, it was not long before they both slowed in their onslaughts, Purrloin collapsing first with Sandile not far behind.

"Tch," The intruder called her Pokémon back, setting its capsule back on her belt and taking a few steps toward the back door. "You may have gotten lucky this time, kid, but don't count on it happening again. You don't know who you're messing with." With that, the woman stepped out the door and was gone.

Cellie paused for a moment to make sure the intruder didn't plan on coming back. Deeming it safe, she rushed to the fainted Sandile's side. "Oh no, now you're hurt," She murmured, sending the creature back to its ball. Some of those wounds had looked serious, and Cellie didn't exactly have any potions on hand. Stowing the pokéball on her belt, she rushed toward home, hoping her parents would know what to do. Overhead the clouds continued massing, their gray forms blocking out the light of an advancing morning. As the young girl's footsteps faded into silence, the first few drops of rain spattered down into the dust outside professor Juniper's lab. Their shapes lingered for a moment before soaking into the thirsty soil, looking like teardrops on the ground.


	3. Chapter 2

**Well, it looks like I'll be writing more of this. Can't get the idea out of my head, and I'm pretty excited about some of the plot-bits I have planned for way later in the story if it gets that far.**

**Thanks for the views and reviews. Hope you enjoy the story!**

**Oh, and I don't own Pokémon (of course). :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: A Lesson in Impulsivity<strong>

"It's like I was telling Patrick…" Cellie's father trailed off as another gust of wind threw itself against the western wall of his family's house. He sighed. "Looks like Cellie's birthday is gonna be pretty nasty, weather-wise."

"First the professor not showing up, now the weather…it's no wonder she hasn't made a peep all morning," Her mother stood by the stove, periodically flipping pancakes onto a platter and replacing the cooked ones with batter. "Maybe I should go wake her up?"

"Nah, let her sleep. The professor'll probably be back later today; no point letting her wallow in some preteen crisis 'til she ge—"

Just then the front door slammed open in another burst of wind and driving rain. Cellie grabbed hold of the handle and stepped inside, trying to wrestle it closed behind her. Her father jumped up to help, and between the two of them they managed to shut out the brewing storm.

"Cellie, honey, where did you come from?" Her mother asked, perplexed.

Wide-eyed, the young girl just pointed in the direction of the lab. Her father, having grabbed a less than absorbent dishtowel from the counter, was attempting to dry the puddles she'd tracked in with her before someone slipped on the slick tile. When she pointed, he was closest to the glass doors through which the professor's lab was just visible. "The lab?" He queried, following her gaze. "But professor Juniper isn't back yet, is she?"

Cellie shook her head adamantly, attempting to relay in her agitated state the day's events thus far. Her mother's hands flew to her mouth and her father's eyes grew dark as she recounted her encounter with the thief. No one seemed to notice as a pancake, left untended in the pan, began to burn.

Concluding her tale, Cellie took the Sandile's pokeball off her belt and held it up to the light. A worried, sick look on her face, she released the reptile onto the kitchen floor. It didn't even move once freed, its eyes shut and its breathing labored. A little blood still seeped from the scratches running along its back, the wounds still fresh and raw. Cellie's mother gasped and drew away, a horrified look on her face. "Is it…?"

"No. He will be if we don't do something soon, though," Cellie knelt down beside the poor creature, not touching it for fear of injuring it further. "I think we need to get him to a Pokémon Center."

"What, in this weather? It's dangerous out there," Cellie's father was peering out at the storm. As if to accentuate his point, a bolt of lightning flashed from one cloud to the next almost directly overhead. The crash of thunder that followed shook the house. "It looks like a real storm is brewing."

"This Pokémon needs medical treatment, Dad! Can't we just use an umbrella or something?" Cellie joined her father at the window, looking up at him defiantly. Meanwhile, her mother tried frantically to extricate the charred remains of what was once a pancake from the frying pan before it caught fire.

The man looked down at his daughter, eyes darker than before and face stern. "You realize it was pure luck that kept you from getting hurt this morning, correct? Who knows what that thief might have done to you if—"

"—if Sandile hadn't pr—"

"—_if_ the circumstances had been even slightly different?" Cellie had never seen her father this serious before. Yeah, the whole incident earlier had been messed up, but he was acting like it was her and not the Pokémon that had gotten injured.

"Cellie, it's too dangerous to go out there right now," He gave her a look that said clearly '_don't interrupt me again' _before continuing. "I'll take the Pokémon to Accumula the second the weather clears, but for now there's nothing we can do."

Seeing the hurt look on his daughter's face, he sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Look, in the end it's a Pokémon. I'm grateful that it helped you out back there, but is it really worth risking one of our lives to try and get it all the way to the next town? If we get hurt running around in this weather, who's going to help it then?"

"I…" Cellie looked away. There wasn't anything she could say to that. A soft hand touched her shoulder, and she glanced up to see her mother standing beside her. The woman squeezed her shoulder comfortingly before bringing her attention to the wrapped bundle cradled in the crook of her other arm. It was the Sandile, wrapped in a towel and still unconscious.

"Why don't you take him to your room and let him rest, sweetie?" She tried to give her daughter a reassuring smile as she passed the bundle over. "I'll just finish up with breakfast here and call you when it's ready. You'll both need your strength if you're heading to Accumula once this rain clears."

Burdened with the limp Pokémon, Cellie could only nod. "I'll watch him while we wait, but…I don't think I'm very hungry, Mom." With that, she navigated her way past the counter and down the hallway to her room, nudging the door shut behind her with one foot.

The Sandile who very well may have saved her from serious injury lay sleeping fitfully on her bed. Its wounds had stopped oozing blood in the ten minutes or so since Cellie had set him there, but he still did not wake up.

As for the girl, she sat for the moment in her desk chair and stared at the creature before her. The rain still pounded a driving tattoo overhead, its staccato noise punctuated every so often by the flash and boom of thunder chasing lightning through the clouds.

_It's too dangerous to go out there right now_

Other than the storm outside, there was little sound in the house. She'd been able to hear her parents puttering around in the kitchen for a while, but eventually even that faded into an awkward silence. She sniffled a little, turning her head so any visitors who peeked in wouldn't see the tears staining each cheek. Her face felt hot and was probably blotchy; she'd been told before that she wasn't a very pretty crier.

That Pokémon had quite likely saved her life, and this was how they repaid it. Leaving it wrapped in a towel to die slowly from the wounds it had received while protecting her.

_Look, in the end it's a Pokémon. _

Wasn't professor Juniper always talking about how Pokémon were people's partners and friends? Here she'd finally had a chance—quite likely her only chance, judging by the professor's current absence—to fight like a real trainer, and she'd gone and gotten one of Juniper's Pokémon grievously injured. The professor would never forgive her, much less give her a Pokémon of her own to train.

_Is it really worth risking one of our lives to try and get it all the way to the next town?_

Cellie sat for another second before standing and picking her way quietly past the unconscious Sandile. In one corner still sat the backpack she'd filled with supplies for her big adventure, back before everything had started falling apart around her.

"Maybe not for you, dad," She murmured, slipping on the backpack and buttoning her raincoat, "but someone's got to help him."

The pokeball sprang open with a light click, encircling the Sandile in a red light before withdrawing. She left the red-streaked towel lying empty on her bed.

The window also sprang open with only a small telling sound, sliding easily to one side and admitting buckets of water almost immediately.

_At least my room is on the first floor. There's my one bit of luck. _The thought made her smile even as the frigid water blasted her face, dripping past the neck of her jacket to soak straight into the shirt underneath. It would be a matter of minutes, if not seconds, before she was soaked to the bone. Even with the water, though, she made the short drop with ease and landed quietly in her mother's flower bed. The window would only close about halfway from this side, so her room was destined to get soaked as well, but at this point Cellie had bigger things to worry about than her mother being angry about a little water.

"Sorry, Dad," She muttered, picking her way out of the flowerbed and around the back of the house toward the entrance to Route 1, "I'll be back soon."

From his perch in one of the trees bordering the path through Route 1, the boy with mint-colored hair kept watch over the area with the air of a king lording over his domain. Below him, at the base of the tree, several Lillipups huddled under a discarded yellow raincoat. Though the air was misty with rain and the lighting fitful and haphazard at best, his piercing eyes did not miss the lone figure traveling quickly up the road toward Accumula town. He froze in place, sitting still as stone even as the branch below him whipped back and forth in the gale. Watching, watching, watching and never moving until she became almost indiscernible from the general chaos of the storm once again. It was only then that he slipped quietly from the tree and began to follow, raincoat forgotten in the mud.

Who was this? Someone braving a storm of this magnitude must have a good reason to be out and about. His curiosity piqued, he worried the problem as a Herdier might do to a bone. Staying just far enough away to be hidden by the weather, he observed the unfortunate traveler.

Though features were hard to discern from this distance, the general figure seemed to suggest a female. She huddled into her jacket, obviously unused to the conditions and not pleased by them. Wind buffeted her from side to side, but she did not fight against it as someone doing a form of athletic training might. He would guess Pokémon trainer, but what trainer with half a brain would come out here now? Most of them would be huddled up in some Pokémon Center waiting for the sun to come out. No, she couldn't be a trainer.

But what did that leave? Idiot? Eccentric? Weather-watcher? Surely she wasn't out here to help the wild Pokémon like he was. No one cared about the wild Pokémon like he did. Besides, she wasn't even looking around for the creatures. Her gaze stayed locked on the road ahead, her gait switching periodically from a power-walk to something approximating a full-out run through the mire the road had become. She stumbled sometimes, too, but always seemed ready to lurch back to her feet a moment later. Whatever it was that brought her out here, she seemed determined to reach that goal.

The lights of Accumula would be visible soon, the boy knew. He'd been following the mysterious girl for at least an hour, watching intently as she picked her way through the mud, taking longer to get up each time she fell. Once a lightning bolt hit a tree nearby, almost knocking a branch on top of her, the boy noted with interest. She leapt aside and kept going, however.

He noted with disapproval that she did not stop to help the scared Purrloin that had been sheltering nearby. She probably hadn't even realized it was there. No matter: that sort of thing was exactly why he'd come out here in the first place.

Of course, by the time he'd calmed the poor thing down she'd made it to the ridge over which the nearby town was visible. The trees had begun to thin, and he had a hard time closing the distance between them without sacrificing his cover. Once free of the hard terrain, she made short work of skidding down the hill separating her from the town, sprinting into town like one pursued by a pack of Houndoom.

The green-haired boy stood on the ridge and watched her go, the drenched Purrloin in his arms purring softly to itself. He would have to get it checked for injuries soon, but before pursuing that goal he took just the one selfish moment to watch his little mystery fade into the morning's uncharacteristic gloom. His new friend had seemed healthy enough, after all, and this puzzle was simply too intriguing to let slip so quickly from his grasp.


	4. Chapter 3

**Been a while, hasn't it? Sorry for the delay, but life has been sort of busy since I last posted up a chapter. It also doesn't help at all that I lost most of my notes for the story in the time I spent _not_ writing this. I can't promise I'll have more chapters up in a timely manner; I have a lot of notes-reconstructing to do before I can go much further with the story. That said, I hope to continue writing it eventually, because I really do enjoy seeing where the story goes.**

**Thanks so much for the lovely reviews and the favs/alerts and stuff, by the way. They're greatly appreciated. **:)****

**And I don't own Pokemon or anything affiliated with it, of course. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Something Lost<strong>

By the time Cellie set foot on the paved streets of Accumula her pace had reduced from a determined run to something more in keeping with a Tangela's shambling gait. Her feet drug the ground, catching on every unseen crack and unevenness in the sidewalk and sending her stumbling toward the ground. Though she managed to catch herself most of the time, by the time the warm glow of the local Pokécenter's wide windows cut through the pervading gloom and driving rain, her hands and arms looked as though that thief's Purrloin had caught her after all. So wearied by her headlong flight was she that she did not mark the lithe figure following furtively behind, even with so few other people around to hide him. She fell more than stepped over the threshold of the care clinic when she finally reached it, saved only by the door handle to which she still clung with one hand. The commotion roused what drowsing visitors that were waiting out the rain within, and they rushed to her aid almost immediately. The girl was covered in mud almost from head to foot, her hair plastered to her face and scrapes running down her arms mixing slow-oozing blood with dripping water. It didn't take a genius to realize something was gravely wrong.

"What is it? Hey, are you okay?" A young man of around nineteen took Cellie's shoulder, dissipating the small throng that had gathered with a stern look and a shooing motion. Cellie noted dimly that he was wearing the same crisp green uniform that she'd come to associate with human doctors. She hadn't known Pokémon doctors looked the same. He tried to move her forward, toward the front desk, but the moisture collecting underneath her had already turned the floor into a water hazard. Unable to get traction on the slick tile with her muddy shoes, she would have gone pitching forward for what felt like the hundredth time had the man not at that moment slipped his arm around her back to support her. Between the two of them she made it to the front desk, where a pretty young receptionist looked on with concern. One grimy hand fumbled along her belt until she managed to remove the Sandile's capsule, which she held toward the girl. It was with an odd sense of dislocation that she noted how the dirt-streaked ball contrasted with the center's pristine counter.

"There was a fight," She mumbled, concentrating hard on keeping her thoughts coherent as they threatened to fly away again, "he needs help."

Without a sound, the receptionist delicately removed the capsule from Cellie's hand and stepped toward the back. A small machine with six small depressions let out a high-pitched beep and flashed several red lights when the woman placed the Pokéball upon it. She glanced back at Cellie and nodded once before stepping through a swinging door into the back of the center. Cellie's stomach lurched as she took in the bleak look the woman with her closed features had tried to hide; Cellie prayed that she hadn't been too late.

The doctor in green, however, did not seem intent on letting the young girl dwell on this for long. One arm still holding her firmly upright, he directed her toward a second door, this one on the visitors' side of the desk. Stepping through placed the two in a sterile white hallway, lit brightly with what Cellie's old school-friends had called 'interrogation lights', after the ones used in detective films. She sniffled, trying to stem a runny nose brought on by her wet clothes and the frigid air-conditioning inside the center. She considered forgoing etiquette entirely and simply wiping it with her hand until she remembered how much mud that was likely to smear across her face.

The doctor led her past several closed doors until he reached what reminded her of nothing so much as the sort of examination room she remembered from her yearly checkups at the regular doctors' office. There was even one of the elongated chairs covered in paper, onto which the doctor helped her before disappearing through the door again into the hallway beyond. He'd shut the door after him, muffling what few noises that could be heard in the quiet clinic so that the only sound was the ever present rain beating its frantic tattoo on the roof above.

Cellie sat in silence for several minutes, eyeing a box of tissues on a table in the far corner and debating whether attempting to walk the few steps over to the box or staying dirty for a while longer would be the greater unpleasantness. She ended up staying where she was, picking at the drying mud absently as she replayed the sight of the nurse walking away with the Pokéball over again. She'd seen that machine before on television; though she didn't know how it worked, it was used for healing minor injuries in Pokémon and revitalizing them when they'd been knocked out. It was in some ways a miracle machine, able to heal in seconds what would normally take days or weeks to fix. But it was by no means infallible. As the Professor had explained it during an impromptu pre-journey lecture a few weeks before, if a Pokémon was injured badly enough or stricken with the wrong sort of illness, there would be precious little the machine could do to aid the creature. At that point all a trainer could do was hope that the clinic's staff could stabilize the Pokémon before it was too late. It didn't take much to put the pieces together; the machine had let off a warning and the nurse had rushed the Sandile into the back. Not even an entire day had passed since Cellie should have started her Pokémon journey and already she had led one of the creatures straight to death's door.

It was not until she tasted salt that Cellie realized the water running down her cheeks was not just leftover raindrops. Her throat constricted so much it hurt, sobs of fear and pain and razor-sharp regret barely contained within her rigid form. And still the tears ran unchecked, the warm rivulets eroding paths through rain and grime to write her shame plainly upon her face.

It was in this state that the doctor found her, first-aid supplies in one hand and hot, damp towels in the other. He offered the young girl the towels with a look somewhere between sadness and pity, but said nothing while she wiped her face and arms as clean as she could. A mirror in the corner showed that her face was indeed blotched, but for once Cellie didn't care. She offered the doctor his towels after she'd reached some superficial level of cleanliness, and he folded them carefully on a medical counter before washing his hands in the inset sink contained therein.

"Are you hurt anywhere besides your hands and arms?" He broke the silence with a calm, professional voice.

Cellie shook her head, holding out her torn appendages for closer inspection. "It's just my arms, I think. The road was a mess and I kept slipping. Everything was fine until lightning hit this tree near the road and I had to sort of jump out of the way…" She trailed off as the doctor's eyebrows raised and his lips pressed together in a look of concern, "I'm okay, though. Really." She finished lamely.

"You're lucky." The doctor was working on her abrasions, wiping them carefully with an antiseptic pad to work the grit from the wounds. "Forgive me if it's not my place, but you shouldn't have been out there in that weather. _Especially _out on some route in the middle of nowhere."

Another stab of guilt flashed through Cellie's stomach, tightening her throat and threatening to kick off the third deluge of tears for the day.

"I didn't have much of a choice," She choked out, her voice cracking.

The doctor looked up, the concern on his face plain. She quickly blinked back tears, forcing herself to meet his gaze. They stayed like that for a few tense moments, after which the doctor sighed, breaking eye contact to resume wrapping up her arms like she was the sort of thing one might find inside a Cofagrigus. "I suppose you're right," He finally admitted, using an adhesive to smooth the loose ends of the gauze wrappings into the rest of the bandages, "Thankfully it is the Pokémon Center that ended up having to deal with you and not the morgue.

"That's all I can do for you here; the rest will have to heal on its own. If the wounds start seeping or don't appear to be healing properly, the regular clinic is near the west end of town, on Virga Street." He paused, his eyes softening. "Look, I can't promise it'll be okay, but we'll do the absolute best we can, all right?"

Cellie nodded miserably, trudging after the doctor as he led her back to the waiting area. She winced as the curious faces of the four other people currently in the waiting area turned in her direction. Her eyes downcast to avoid their gazes, she took a seat in one of the cushioned booths lining the wall farthest from everyone else.

"Hey there, you all right?"

Cellie hadn't noticed anyone moving, but when she looked up she saw a young man standing in front of her. The shock of brown hair sticking out from under his cap stood up in spikes; it was obvious he'd been caught in the rain and only recently dried. Cellie's own clothes were still dripping, even after the time spent receiving treatment, and she surreptitiously attempted to brush some of the water away before the other party noticed.

"Yeah, I guess," She started tentatively, willing her voice not to break like it had with the doctor, "certainly had better days, though."

The boy gave a tiny laugh, more of an exhalation than an actual declaration of mirth. "I'd imagine that's about the queen of all understatements." He took a seat beside her, and even with the inches separating them she could feel the heat radiating from his form. She shivered, reminded once again of her damp clothing and the air conditioning blowing down upon them. "I'm Eli, by the way." He gave her another friendly smile, and despite herself, Cellie returned it.

"Cellie." She said by way of reply, keeping the hesitant smile on her face but offering no more than her name.

Eli waited a moment to see if there would be more, but soon leaned back to rest his head on the cream-colored wall behind him. She could tell he was disappointed by her lack of forthcomingness, but with the Sandile still hurt in back it somehow felt wrong to let herself get sidetracked from her worry with smalltalk. Besides, she reflected bitterly, it wasn't as if she really deserved the kindness Eli was attempting to give her. The wet clothes? Yes. The chill? Yes. Pleasant social encounters? She hadn't exactly earned those. She yawned then and felt her façade of friendly normalcy degrading despite her best intentions. Eli remained in the seat beside her, not attempting to strike up another conversation, but also not leaving to find someone else to talk to. And somehow, despite the dull knife of guilt still wrenching at her guts, she felt somewhat comforted knowing that not everyone hated her for her blunder, as some irrational piece of her mind suggested. Even if Eli was unaware of what she had done, at least for the moment she could feel just a little less alone.

She was asleep before she knew it.

* * *

><p>Eli didn't notice that Cellie was unconscious until her head bumped his shoulder. Shifting away, he removed his jacket and placed it under her as a makeshift pillow. She was cute, yeah, but he certainly didn't think she'd meant to do that and the last thing he wanted was for the already stressed girl to freak out more when she awoke to find herself in such a position. He hadn't seen much when the girl had burst through into the center like some fury, so quickly had the doctors bustled her and her Pokémon off into the body of the facility, but the receptionist's sympathetic look when she'd come back through the rear door spoke volumes. Something was definitely wrong, and the odds didn't look to be playing in Cellie's favor. He sighed and started pacing around the center, willing the rain to stop or the doctor to return or <em>something<em> to happen that would break the tension stretched taut throughout the building. His own Pokémon had been ready for hours now; if not for the rain, he could have been out on the road and avoided this situation entirely. Of course, he had a feeling that if not for the odd storm, Cellie's predicament might not have happened at all. He crossed to the other side of the waiting room and stared out a large window, watching a Pidove feeder sway wildly in the wind. Regardless of what happened at this point, it looked like they'd be stuck here for quite a while.

So caught up in their own ruminations were the Pokémon trainers taking shelter at the center that no one thought to spare another glance at the unfortunate girl asleep in the corner. Those who knew the deep hurt of losing a valued partner kept their eyes down, wishing desperately to be elsewhere when the inevitable pronouncement came. Those who had been lucky enough to avoid such an occurrence looked everywhere but that one place which served as an uncomfortable reminder of their friends' mortality.

And because of this, none saw the lithe, green-haired form which stood just outside the window nearest to her, the figure who stared and stared though rain drenched him and lightning lit the sky at his back. No one saw the single Pokéball at his waist, shiny with lack of use. None saw the way his eyes lit with curiosity as he watched the proceedings inside. And not a soul living or dead witnessed the feral grin which grew as he loomed above the girl, sporadic white flashes throwing his tall shadow over the Pokécenter floor.


	5. Chapter 4

****I don't own Pokemon or anything affiliated with it, of course. Just the usual friendly reminder. ****

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Gaining Perspective<strong>

It was no sharp noise or startling commotion that caused Cellie's eyes to open. It was rather a final cessation of sound emanating from outside the center that disturbed her already fitful sleep. Regardless of what caused her return to consciousness, however, the result remained the same: Cellie awoke, stretched, and hissed as every muscle in her body simultaneously decided to either seize up or begin aching. _Last time I ever pass out in a chair, _she thought groggily, rubbing her still-grimy face with both hands as she tried to return fully to the land of the conscious.

It was this movement that finally dislodged her makeshift pillow from its precarious perch on the arm of the chair, and she looked down, perplexed, as it fell into the chair beside her. "A jacket?" She looked around, wondering to whom it could belong. Her gaze fell on Eli, dozing in another chair on the other side of the room in just a t-shirt and jeans. Shaking away the last of the grogginess left over from her afternoon nap, she picked up the jacket and started over toward the boy.

She made it halfway across the room before a box against the wall nearest him caught her eye—the center's telephone. "Oh man," she muttered, the machine reminding she never had let her parents know where she'd gone, "I'm _so _grounded for this." Mission to return Eli's borrowed coat put off for the moment, she closed the remaining distance to the phone and picked up the receiver. The number dialed, she waited impatiently for the call to go through.

And waited.

And waited.

"Oh, come on, what's wrong now?" She vented, ending the call and redialing. This time she noticed upon picking up the receiver that the familiar dial-tone was absent. "Out of order?" Her brows furrowed, she set the receiver down again and stood staring at the machine.

"The line's probably down 'cause of that storm," a voice sounded behind her, causing her to jump forward and into the telephone box. It remained inert, the screen glowing the gentle blue that denoted power but no bars to show a connection. She turned, heart still pounding, to find that Eli had managed to sneak up on her while she was distracted.

"When did you wake up?" She asked almost accusingly, picking the jacket she'd dropped while startled and pushing it toward him.

He for his part had the good sense to look at least somewhat apologetic, keeping his hands in front of him as he backed away from her. Once he deemed himself a safe distance from Miss Excitable, he accepted his coat and shrugged it on, brushing at a bit of mud that had rubbed off on its front. "Hey, sorry," he replied, grinning, "you weren't exactly being quiet over here, though. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"…Ah. Yeah. Sorry about that." She gave a self-deprecating little 'heh' and tried for a smile that came out almost intact.

"And she smiles! Praise Arceus, it's a miracle!" Eli winked, then turned from the useless telephone, stepping back toward the front desk. "The doctor came out to get you earlier, but I told him to let you sleep." When he saw her expression, he quickly added, "Don't worry, it's not what you think, or I wouldn't have stopped him. I asked him to keep me posted so I could fill you in when you woke. They managed to stabilize him about an hour ago. That healing machine of theirs worked wonders on the superficial damage, so he should be fit again by now."

He'd reached the desk by this point and rung a little silver bell to summon the receptionist. Then he turned his head to meet her gaze, levity replaced just this once with seriousness. Any other time Cellie would have noticed that Eli had remarkably striking blue eyes. "It was a close call, though, Cellie. They can work wonders at a center like this, but if you hadn't gotten him here when you had…" He trailed off, neither of them wanting to hear what they both could imagine.

Cellie looked away, her face hot with embarrassment. "I shouldn't have let him get that hurt," she murmured, the news that Sandile would pull through only lessening a guilt that she knew could never be erased completely. Eli looked like he wanted to say something, but the receptionist chose that moment to return. She took one look at the pair, gave another sad little smile, and stepped to the back to retrieve the newly healed Pokémon.

"He'll be okay," she said, handing the capsule carefully to Cellie. She noted that someone had taken the time to clean it. "A little weak for a few days, but right as rain after that. Just watch those battles from now on, all right? They can get dangerous." With a nod and another, warmer, smile, she stepped around the corner and disappeared again. Cellie breathed a sigh of relief, hugging the ball close to her chest.

"Glad he's all right," Eli said. The two shared another awkward moment of silence, and then someone's stomach growled. They simultaneously jumped and apologized, then paused and shared the first real laugh that Cellie had managed all day. "Hey, you wanna get something to eat?" Eli asked, pointing toward the door with his thumb, "I'd imagine you're about as starved as I."

"Yeah, that would be great. But," Cellie ran a hand through her hair and grimaced, "let me get cleaned up first. These centers have showers, right?" She called the receptionist to the front again to inquire about such a possibility, then handed her pokéball to Eli. "Take care of Sandile for me, won't you?" She stepped away, following the receptionist around to one side, through a door she hadn't yet tried. Pausing on the threshold, she added, "I'll be back in just a minute."

Eli waited a moment more just in case she returned for something and then took a seat back in his spot by the phone. The digital screen had the time blinking in one corner: 6:23 p.m. He sighed. A whole day wasted because of some stupid storm. Though the rain had stopped, clouds still covered the sky and cast the area into an early evening. He debated whether he should shove off tonight or if it would be best to lose yet more time staying in the Pokémon center until morning. Ultimately he shrugged, choosing to put off the decision for a few more hours; after all, it's not like he had any reason to make these plans ahead of time. One of the good things about being a trainer was that one learned to be completely self-reliant. While all the travelling might put a bit of a strain on one's social life, it also meant that there was rarely anyone worrying about where one might or might not be at a given time. Eli enjoyed making his own schedule, and though anyone trying to keep up with him might not appreciate it, he found the ability to make related decisions on a whim liberating.

Regardless of what he did after dinner, though, he was stuck here until Cellie could come claim her Pokémon again. He tossed the ball and caught it a couple times, turning it over in his hands to examine it. Whoever had cleaned it had done an excellent job; it was almost pristine, save for the cosmetic scratches which were unavoidable if a pokéball saw any kind of use. He was tempted to let the Pokémon out, see what sort of creature had caused Cellie so much anxiety, but decided to keep his curiosity in check for now. The Pokémon needed rest much more than it needed some stranger startling it right now. Instead, he minimized the ball and set it on his belt, releasing one of his own Pokémon onto the center floor instead. The Lillipup panted happily, jumping up into his lap to cuddle while Eli secured its pokéball back in place.

* * *

><p>Hot water, Cellie mused, would be something she'd sorely miss in the coming months, provided this little stunt didn't get her grounded until she was too old to go out adventuring at all. Between the Center supplies and her own carried provisions she'd managed to get herself at least passably clean again, though she was beginning to wonder if she would ever be able to get the ground –in mud out from between her nails. That aside, she finally felt human enough to face the world beyond the center walls again, including her little dinner-meeting with Eli.<p>

Gathering the last of her things off of the bathroom counter, she repacked and peeked back through the lobby door shyly. Since the rain had cleared, most of the people waiting out the storm within the Center had taken their leave already. One or two new arrivals for the evening were staking out good places to sleep, but other than them, the receptionist, and Eli she had the place to herself. She still let the door go slowly so it wouldn't make too much noise, her instinctive self-consciousness making her automatically try to draw as little attention to herself as possible.

So quietly, in fact, did she make her exit that she almost made it back to Eli without him noticing her. Had it not been for the attentive Lillipup curled up in his lap pricking its ears at her and raising its head in interest, she might have paid him back for the earlier phone incident.

"All finished, then?" He smiled, but she didn't miss the surreptitious look he gave his watch. He gave the Lillipup one last pat on the head, then sent it back to its ball and stood before she had a chance to reply. "That's good, 'cause I don't know about you, but I'm starved."

She nodded, receiving graciously her pokéball when he offered. It felt good in her hand, and really at that point all she wanted to do was sit down and apologize again to the poor Sandile she'd so hurt. But Eli seemed more than impatient, and she knew she'd kept him waiting overlong already. "Ah, yeah, food would be good. I haven't eaten since…" She paused, then came to the startling realization that she hadn't eaten anything that day. Even that morning she'd turned down her mother's birthday pancakes, so knotted up with worry was she that she couldn't bear the thought of food. Now, with everything more or less fixed, she was just beginning to realize how hungry she actually was. "Well, let's just say its been a while. Do you know of a good place?"

Eli nodded, opening the Center door and motioning for her to follow him into the burgeoning gloom. "There's a nice little place down the street, pretty cheap," he began, "And they let Pokémon eat there, too." With that he set off down the street, and Cellie almost had to jog to keep up with the lanky boy's brisk pace. By the time they reached the café he'd picked, she was somewhat winded.

"Not tired from that, are you?" He asked, jokingly, "Got a ways to go if you're gonna be a trainer with cardio like that."

Cellie made a face at him, trying to regulate her breathing into a normal pattern. She had never considered herself out of shape, but she also didn't exercise as much as she probably could have, and besides that, not eating all day combined with all the earlier stresses was making her a little light-headed. "You try running nonstop from Nuvema to Accumula in gale-force winds and rain and then we'll talk, Dodrio-legs." She pushed past him into the café, taking a seat near one of the big windows along the outside edge. Normally she liked using the outdoor tables at places like this, but they were all still dripping from the rain. The indoor booths here still seemed nice; the one she'd chosen had a fern in a blue hanging pot suspended above it which they'd somehow managed to rig into a light source as well. The warm yellow glow from the internal bulb playing off the plant's leaves was surprisingly calming. Eli took the seat across from her without comment, though she noticed he was attempting to limit his stride to something more manageable. She hid her victorious grin behind a napkin and pretended to cough.

"Nasty cold you've got there," Eli shot at her, sarcastic but with a smile that softened the comment's edges. "If you hadn't just spent all day in a Pokécenter I'd say you should get that checked out."

Cellie gave a derisive snort and opened the menu, scanning for whatever looked cheap and edible. "I know, right? Best birthday I've ever had."

"Wait, it's your birthday, too? Man, you really can't win, can you?" He'd apparently already picked out what he wanted and was attempting to fold his napkin into a paper hat with little success. Cellie didn't have a chance to respond before the waitress came to take their drink orders, but afterwards nodded.

"Yeah, it really does suck. " She stuffed her menu back into the napkin rack at the edge of the table and ran a hand through her hair. "I was supposed to get my Pokémon today. You know, start my big journey, have the town make a big to-do about sending me off, all that stuff. And what do I get?" She gestured at her still-damp backpack and the Pokéball on her belt, "Rain, mud, an absent professor, a thief trying to break into Juniper's lab and take Arceus-knows-what...

"And what will I get for trying to stop her? Probably no Pokémon ever now, after getting that poor Sandile beat all to pieces, and the grounding of the century for running off after my parents expressly forbade me to leave." Her hand gestures had been getting increasingly erratic the more irate she got, and she was lucky not to accidentally backhand the platter of drinks their waitress brought to the table near the end of her outburst. She gave a quick apology before ordering her food, and then gave another self-conscious 'sorry' to Eli.

"That's rough," he replied tentatively, "…so...there was a thief and what now?"

The next hour or so passed relatively amiably as Cellie caught Eli up on exactly what had happened over dinner. He acted suitably impressed and sympathetic, and congratulated Sandile on a job well done when Cellie let him out to eat. The little reptile visibly preened at the praise, obviously enjoying the attention. Despite herself, somewhere along the way Cellie realized she was having a good time. She'd made a friend, and Sandile wasn't treating her as though he completely hated her. The dark cloud of her guilt still sat heavy on the horizon, but she was starting to think things might not be completely lost. If nothing else, at least she'd had a nice birthday dinner. It wasn't until after dinner when the two trainers exited into a town fully under the command of a summer night that the enormity of what she had done that day began to hit her. Not only had she stopped a thief from making off with the Professor's things, she'd managed to both command a Pokémon in battle and survive away from home for almost an entire day. Under better circumstances, she might consider this the start of a successful training career. Not that she had forgotten all the bad things that had happened that day as well, but under Eli's chipper influence she was beginning to pick out the good that had occurred as well as the bad.

All that was of course before she felt the light tug of something being removed from her belt in the street, and long before she turned to find a strange man with tea green hair standing behind her and Eli, holding in one hand the Pokéball of a certain reptilian creature. It would be no great stretch of the imagination to conjecture that after that point the night irredeemably cemented itself in her mind as the single worst day she'd ever experienced up to that point in her short life.

"Hey!" Cellie exclaimed, turning to face down the light-fingered man behind her, "Give that back!" She didn't necessarily expect that to work, but it seemed an appropriate enough exclamation, all things considered. Certainly better than the traditional 'Stop! Thief!'.

Her aggressor merely smiled at this, holding up a hand and wagging a finger back and forth in lieu of words. Cellie, ever fearless, stepped forward with her fists balled. "I mean it," She warned, "give it back now or I'll-"

The thief didn't give her a chance to finish that threat. With a smirk holding no fear and plenty of amusement, he bound back a step, crooked that finger back into the universal symbol for 'follow me', and then turned and ran into the gathering night.

Before Eli could so much as turn around, Cellie was off like one of the bolts of lightning which had plagued her earlier in the day. He tried to reach out and stop her, but his hand clutched empty air as she easily dodged his grasp and continued down the street. By the time he'd gotten his own chase properly started, she'd disappeared around one of the many blind corners of the city and was gone.

Cellie, for her part, had assumed after the initial shock that Eli would be right behind her. It didn't occur to her until the thief had led her deep into an unfamiliar part of the small city that she might have wanted to wait for him. Unfortunately, it didn't appear that the tea-haired boy felt like letting her stop to contemplate this. He sprinted with an endurance belying his lithe frame, bounding across alley refuse and over retaining fences with equal ease, Cellie barely able to keep up. It was only as she began to feel that no matter the consequences she would not be able to keep running that he finally slowed, coming to a halt in the center of what passed for a park in Accumula. The tiny, manicured trees framed the boy in front of her like some wild thing lightly caged. As he turned, his eyes reflected off some distant light, and Cellie took an involuntary step back. Those eyes stared through her, lancing down into her soul with a cold precision which took her breath away. A second later the feeling passed, but she could not help but feel violated all the same, as though she had been judged in some grave way and found wanting.

Wanting or not, the boy held her Sandile firmly in his hand, and after all they'd been through already today it would take more than some punk kid to separate them. Cellie stepped forward, right up into the boy'd face, and repeated, "Give him back. _Now_."

Once again he merely smiled. Cellie was so close to his face that she could smell his breath, like sweet grasses mixed with something she couldn't place. It was somewhat disconcerting; she'd expected him to smell bitter or rotten.

"I'd like to speak with him first."

The boy spoke softly, so softly that had she not been standing right before him Cellie might have missed it. He shuffled back a pace, just enough for him to move comfortably again, and then pressed the release on the Pokéball in his hand. It opened with a metallic click, and a red light shot forth, resolving itself into the form of the recently Pokénapped Sandile. The Pokémon turned immediately to face his aggressor, mouth agape, but strangely the boy did not retreat. He instead crouched, that smile still on his face, and gazed deep into the creature's eyes. It looked back and then stilled, only the twitching tip of its tail giving sign of its former aggression. Cellie noticed in a detached way that now his eyes held none of that calculating coldness which had so staggered her. If anything, the look he was giving the Pokémon was almost friendly.

After studying the Pokémon for a few moments, the boy broke contact and looked back at her, his expression somewhat troubled for the first time since she'd encountered him. "He says you saved him," He began haltingly, as though he had a hard time believing it could be true, "and to tell you 'thank you'."

"What, you can talk to him?" Cellie asked, already cementing the thief in her mind as a total crazy. She'd have to tread carefully; her father always said the crazy ones were the most dangerous. She was starting to regret not having waited for Eli.

His expression closed at her comment, and he drew back a pace. "You can't, then." He sighed and looked at the Pokéball still in his hand. "I really should just take you now; you'll be happier with me," he said, directing this comment to the Sandile, "She's not a proper trainer at all."

Cellie thought better of retorting, keeping in mind that she had no idea what would provoke the thief. A silence stretched between them as he paused, again looking at the Pokémon between them. It had moved since being released, shuffling over so that it stood almost protectively in front of her. In the glow of the streetlights she could see the pink, newly healed skin on its back where its scales had not yet regrown. Another pang of regret echoed through her, and as though he could sense it, the boy looked up.

"I see what you mean," he remarked, disbelief still somewhat evident in his tone, "perhaps an unorthodox beginning will do her well.

"Not that I really have a say in it; in the end it's up to you." He stood, then turned his attention back to the girl before him.

"He says you plan to head back to Nuvema tomorrow. Why is that?" Rocking from foot to foot, he kept his head cocked as though listening for something, looking for all the world like some Lillipup awaiting its master's arrival home.

Cellie, for her part, was caught completely off guard. How had he known where she was headed? Unless…

"Are you stalking me?" The question came out less demanding and more querulous than Cellie had hoped, but there it lay in the air between them all the same.

He frowned as though confused, looked to the Sandile and then back to her. "No…should I be?" In any other situation Cellie might have laughed. As things stood, she couldn't decide whether or not she should start to cry. It certainly felt like it.

"No! I don't want anyone following me, much less some roustabout who steals my Pokémon and pretends like he can hear what it's saying!" The seconds the words left her lips, she clapped her hands over her mouth and cringed. That was definitely not the sort of thing you said to kidnappers and crazy people.

The boy's frown darkened, and he retreated further. The Sandile between them growled, and he stopped, foot poised for another step into the surrounding gloom. He remained silent for a moment longer, and when he finally spoke Cellie could hear the hurt in his voice. "I really can hear them, you know. They make a lot more sense than you people do."

His expression hardened, then, "He wants to travel with you. You were supposed to become a trainer today anyway; all the Pokémon at the lab know it. You want to have your adventure, and he doesn't want to molder away trapped in a dusty laboratory anymore. You can _help_ each other, you idiot, and yet you just want to throw it all away and ruin the chances for both of you to get what you want. And why?" He paused, eyes cold and more cutting than diamond. "Why is that?"

Backed into a verbal corner by the boy's analysis, Cellie blurted, "Because it doesn't belong to me! It's Professor Juniper's Pokémon!" Even as she said it, she realized how wrong that sounded. She was reminded once again of her father this morning (had it really only been that long?) and, strangely enough, of the rows and rows of Pokéballs lining the walls of the lab.

The silence stretched between them, a look of disgust marring the green-haired boy's features. Cellie looked down, unable to look him in the eye.

"_He_ doesn't 'belong' to anyone. He is not 'her' Pokémon anymore than you belong to your father or him to his. You people treat Pokémon like they're property to be used and then stored away until you next need them to risk their lives for your enjoyment, and not a single one of you get that they're at least as intelligent as you, if not more so. Have you even asked him his name?" The words stung, and Cellie felt that familiar pain that came from being reminded of the Sandile's near death earlier in the day.

It was true, some little voice whispered in the back of her mind, that there was no way the professor could devote the time and energy to all those Pokémon that they needed. It was hard for researching professors; how could it not be nearly impossible for the travelling variety? Her thoughts cast back to her father as well, and how flippantly he had dismissed the poor reptile's sacrifice. Perhaps there was some grain of truth to the boy's words.

"He's picked you, so you have to have some potential, however well hidden," The boy had moved even father back, so that his face was obscured by the irregular shadows cast by streetlights and whatever little restaurants were still open at this hour, "You don't have to be like the rest of them. I can see the difference in you."

"Here-" He tossed Sandile's Pokéball to her, forcing her to meet his eyes again. She was ashamed to know there were tears forming in the corners of hers. "The rest of them wouldn't have run through lightning and rain to save your friend there," His features softened momentarily, and he rewarded her with a small smile, "Don't make me regret this."

At the edge of sight now, he paused one last time, as though he'd forgotten something, and she could see the white flash of teeth even across the distance. "And if you need any motivation," He called, smugness obvious in his voice, "I also know who your friend in the lab was. If you want to track her down, you'll have to find me again."

With that, the boy slipped off into the darkness, leaving Cellie and the Sandile standing alone. A long moment passed between them, and then Cellie sighed, reaching down to pick up the little reptile. "Do you really want to stay with me, then?" She asked, cradling the creature in her arms, "I'm afraid I won't be very good at this…"

"Dile!" The Pokémon snuggled closer before pinning her with one shrewd eye. She wasn't sure what he was trying to say, but it sounded close enough to an affirmation to give her hope.

"Well, in that case I guess I don't have much of a choice, then, do I?" Scanning for familiar terrain, Cellie began what she knew would doubtlessly be a long walk back to the part of town in which she'd left Eli. Assuming she didn't get mugged or something prior to reaching that side of town.

Walking off into the gloom, she sighed again. "It's been one heck of a day, hasn't it?" The Sandile hissed, and she gave a resigned laugh. "Yeah, you're right, and it's not gonna get any easier from here.

"Ah well, it could be worse," She said, thoughtfully, still on alert and more than aware that she was talking to a glorified lizard, "at least we have each other.

"And at least it's not raining."

* * *

><p><strong>Once again it's been a while, huh? This was a hard chapter to write; I've been working on ideas for this chapter since I started writing the story and only now is it really coming together in a way that I'm happy with. That said, though it's still a little rough and I might tweak things later, I'm pretty happy with it. Honestly at this point I feel like I could either call the story finished with this chapter as a kind of little blurb, or I could continue writing it and see where it ends up going. I have ideas for the later chapters, but there's a bit of space between this one and the stuff that comes later that I'm not 100% sure how I want to fill yet. Which ultimately means that I'll be about as reliable about updating this as I have been in the past (meaning you'll get chapters, but even I have no idea when). Would you guys like to see more of this story, or should I go ahead and call it finished here? Just wanted a little input so it wasn't just me making the decision without consulting the readers. Thanks!<br>**

**Also, once again thanks for the wonderful comments/favs/alerts and for reading this story. I hope you guys are enjoying it; I certainly am! :)  
><strong>


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